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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: #4 - "Closest to Your Birthday" - ME!!!

The theme this week is to write about an ancestor closest to your birthday. I am simultaneously participating in the Genealogy Do-Over. Week #2 of the Do-Over had us "interview" ourselves and then write a biography. I decided to combine the two tasks and write about MYSELF.

WARNING: THIS IS A LONG POST. I won't be offended if you decide not to read it :-)

I could have written "just the facts, Ma'am" but - that's not my style. If I was going to write about myself, I wanted the reader to learn who I am, what I am about. After all, that's what I aspire to in my family history research. I want to "know" the person and a listing of vital statistics just doesn't cut it.

So - if you have the time - make yourself a cup of tea or coffee...pour yourself a beer or a glass of wine. Sit down and find out who I am.

Oh - and there aren't any pictures - sorry - I figured the post was long enough!!

I was born on February 9, 1955 at 9:01 P.M. at the Yokosuka
Naval Base Hospital in Yokosuka, Japan. My father, Alan Edouard SAMUEL was in
the Navy and my mother, the former Doris May LICHTENTHAL didn't want to spend
two years alone stateside while he completed his tour so she joined him in
Japan in January, 1954. Both my parents were just 22 years old when I was born,
married less than two years. Our address on the US Naval Base was: 684-B Area
X, Yokohama, Japan.

I was named after my mother’s childhood friend, Debby
Moscowitz. On February 28, 1955, I was named during the Friday night service at
Temple Israel in New Rochelle, NY. All four of my grandparents attended the
service as well as a close family friend, who was visiting New York from Japan.

I remember nothing about the months I spent in Japan,
probably because I was only 9 months old when we returned to the States! Thanks
to my parents’ penchant for photography and a probable genetic marker for
collecting (NOT hoarding!) I have many letters, photos, movies and artifacts to
help me recreate what life was like during that time. I recently finished
writing a book, Letters Home, based
on the letters my mother wrote home to her mother during those years.

Upon our return to the United States in late October, 1955,
we moved to 38 Linden Place in New Rochelle, NY. Both sets of my grandparents
lived in New Rochelle. They actually lived across the hall from each other in
an apartment house at 30 Eastchester Road. (Are you channeling Everybody Loves Raymond? You should be!)
My sister, Jeanne was born in New Rochelle, barely 14 months after me.

By October 1956, my
father started attending graduate school at Yale University, paid for by his naval
service. (Dad always had some kind of grand plan going.) We were living in New
Haven at 17 Ward Street which is now a pretty rough area. My sister Katharine
was born and we moved to a two-floor duplex in a much nicer part of New Haven –
88 Cooper Place. I have two stories about that residence: 1) My mother told a
story about a woman who was taking a shower and leaned too hard on the soap
dish. The wall collapsed and she ended up outside, naked. 2) Living in this
two-floor duplex with three small children is what prompted my mother to choose
a ranch home next.

I remember watching our
one-floor ranch home in Hamden being built. We moved into that home
in 1959. I lived there until I moved into my own apartment in 1974. My mother
lived there until she passed away in December of 2011. It remains in the family
today. My sister, Elizabeth
(Betsy) was born in 1961 and shortly after that my parents divorced. My mom,
faced with raising four little girls aged 7, 6, 4 and 1 was understandably
stressed. She broke down crying one day while purchasing tires at the local
Firestone. The manager, Al Falcone took pity on her and asked her to coffee.
And – as they say – the rest was history. My mom and Al had a son, my brother
Dean, in 1964. Our family further expanded on Sundays and holidays when we all
got together with Al’s children from his first marriage, Sandra, Mark, and
Laura. Good times.

I began my formal schooling at the ripe old age of 4 ½,
attending Kindergarten, 1st and 2nd grade at Alice Peck
School in Hamden. Some notable moments during those years include throwing up
on the Principal’s car (I’m still mortified) and the day the kid behind me
leaned back and split his head open on the shelf. The kid in front of me was so
upset she peed her pants and it ran onto my shoes. Oh, and I guess I learned to
read – something I’ve enjoyed throughout my life.

Hamden was becoming a “bedroom” town to the city of New
Haven in those days. As the town grew, a new school was built – Bear Path. I
attended there until moving on to Sleeping Giant Junior High for grades 7, 8,
and 9. Highlights of my elementary years: getting moved to another 3rd
grade class because the teacher was really mean (she died later that year –
hmm), being sent to the principal’s office in 4th grade because my
handwriting was so bad (pretty sure that couldn’t have been the real reason,
but that’s what I remember), being called “Peanut” by my 5th grade
teacher (I was the shortest kid in my class.) I forgive Mrs. Knox though. She
instilled a life-long love of writing in me. This was the year I realized
exactly how short I was. 10 years old and not quite 48” tall. My paternal
grandmother, “Nana”, paid for me to get some bone scans to see if I was
“normal.” Diagnosis? Just doggone short. I thought junior- high would be a better
experience. Wrong. My very first day, I was confronted by some “big” kids, who
told me, “Hey, kid – Kindergarten’s that way.” Swell. Later that year I made a
real name for myself when, reaching far into the ice cream cooler at lunchtime,
I actually fell in! It was 1967 – girls still had to wear dresses to school.
Wonderful. I ran for Student Council each and every one of the three years. I
lost every time.

Hamden High School. There were two junior highs in town but
only one high school. 2400 charming adolescents spanning three grades (10-12).
Hamden had just made the news in Time
magazine (Feb. 7, 1969) following a major race riot at the school. But, the
girls could now wear pants! Much more comfortable while they were puffing on
cigarettes (and some other stuff??) lounging on the front lawn of the school.
Not me of course. Waaaaay too afraid to get in trouble. Pretty sure I was the
shortest of the 2400, but I did have a couple of close contenders. Nice change.
Ran for Student Council. Decided to use my height, or rather, the lack of it,
to my benefit. Closed my speech (which I had to give standing next to
the podium) by saying, “So….the next time you bend down to tie your shoe, there
I’ll be.” I won a seat for the next three years. (People still remember this
speech 40 years later!)

The best part of high school was meeting my friend, Doreen.
We are still “besties” to this day. Lots of good (and some odd) memories there.
I hung with a very small group of people who frequented a certain teacher’s
office between classes. I got my first job at Morton’s Drug Store as soon as I
turned 16. Got fired but I can’t remember why. Maybe I wasn’t Jewish enough for
them. Got my second job at Maxwell’s Drug Store in the next plaza. (By the way,
Hamden is famous for its Magic Mile, one of the first strip malls in
Connecticut. We also had the first McDonald’s in CT. My siblings and I were always
amazed by the sign that proclaimed “Over ONE MILLION sold!) The manager at
Maxwell’s was an old friend of my step-dad. Frank actually hired me because I
was Jewish and he thought I would work on Sundays, Christmas, and Easter
without complaint. But – as I like to say – I’m Italian by osmosis. Once my
Italian step- dad entered the scene, holidays became a major food-fest. I did
my shifts dutifully though and worked at Maxwell’s through college, even
getting my friend, Doreen a job there. (She met her husband, John working there,
so – you’re welcome Dor!)

Academically, I did ok. But back then a “C” average was
considered okay. I loved my German teacher, Mrs. Karacsonyi. I took German,
beginning in 7th grade all the way through high school because I
wanted to know what my grandmother was saying to my mother. (They immigrated to
the US from Austria in 1938.) Unfortunately, the dialect you learn in school is
not the same as that spoken in Vienna. It did help a bit though. I did pay
attention in Biology class. To one thing. Genetics. I learned that if a very
short person has a child with a fairly tall person there is a 50 % chance of
having an average size child. I met the man would become my husband in 1974.
Scott was 6 feet tall. I was 4 feet 10 inches. (So it said on my license. I
think I really was 4 ‘8 ¾” which is what I am now.) We now have two children,
Caitlin and Meghan – both of average height. Knowledge is valuable.

I graduated from Hamden High in 1972 and went straight to
college. I was 17 ½ years old. I was going to be the “coolest English teacher”
ever. Southern Connecticut State College (now Southern Connecticut State University) was basically like attending a giant Hamden High. It was primarily a commuter school at that time. I lived at home because it was too expensive to live on campus. I received a grant to pay the majority of my bills due to our family’s large size and small income. The loans I took out were later forgiven because I became a teacher. I supplemented my grant money by continuing my job at Maxwell’s. I was making $1.85 an hour. Finally, in 1974 the company agreed to give us a nickel raise. The minimum wage was raised to $1.91 just a few days later. Nice people I worked for.

Somewhere during my sophomore year I decided that English was completely
BORING. Totally blindsided by this revelation, I had no idea what to do. I
remembered my friend Paula (from that small group in high school) babysitting a
hearing impaired boy when we were younger. Special Education was just beginning
to be a major field and SCSC was the school for Special Education
teachers at the time. So that was that. I would study Special Education and
work with students who had mild learning disabilities.

A childhood friend,
Renee, introduced me to Scott Holman in October of 1974. By spring of 1975, I
had moved into my first apartment at 1074 Dixwell Avenue in Hamden, CT. My
roommate was Patty, a childhood friend of Doreen’s. The third floor apartment
was $150 a month. The only heat was a space heater in the living room and whatever
radiated from a “gas on gas” stove in the kitchen. I bought a waterbed to avoid
freezing at night. It all seemed like a good idea at the time. Within a few
months Patty moved out to live with the guy on the first floor. Solution? Move
Scott in! It was perhaps the most radical thing I had ever done. Of course, it
was the 70s.

We lived there for some months then moved several blocks
south to 40 Whiting Street. Our landlord was an Italian guy who said he didn’t
speak English. It did appear that was true when we tried to get him to fix the
kitchen drainpipe that had frozen because it ran down the outside of the
house. He also didn’t seem to understand when we expressed our disgust at the
fruit flies invading our apartment as a result of his winemaking in the
basement. He sure knew how to speak English when asking for the rent though.

I did my first student-teaching in Meriden working with what
was then referred to as TMR students (Trainable Mentally Retarded – what a
horrible term.) The master teacher was horrific. I spent many days crying as I
drove the 20 minutes from school to my job at the drug store. The highlight was
evenings at the bar with Scott, coloring the drawings I needed for class the
next day.

My second student teaching experience was much better. I
worked in two elementary schools in Hamden. Ah… these were the kids I wanted to work with. Sweet kids, with minimal learning disabilities. I graduated from Southern
with a B.S. in Special Education in May 1976.

I no longer was working at Maxwell’s. The Adams Drug company
said they had evidence of employees stealing, took me (alone) in the backroom
and threatened to “get the authorities involved.” I panicked. I don’t like to
be in trouble. I signed some crazy paper that said I had taken funds from the
company. What a sucker - I never even asked them for evidence. I left and never
heard another word from them. Shortly after that I got a job at JC Penney
working in the catalog department.

But, I couldn't get a teaching job. There was so much
competition. The market was flooded with newly graduated teachers. Out of
desperation, I agreed to an interview 3 miles from the Canadian border. My sister
Kathy joined me for the road trip. On the way home, it was raining. No, it was
pouring. Of course, my wipers stopped working. We “MacGyver’ed” a contraption, tying our shoelaces together and running it from wiper to wiper through the
inside of the car. By the time we hit Meriden CT (maybe an hour later) Kathy’s
hands were blistered from the pulling. It was raining even harder. If the radio
in my car had worked, we might have heard the cause was Hurricane Belle. We decided
to stop at a hotel. Great idea till we got locked out of the room on the
balcony when we went out to check the rain. I still hate Meriden.

I didn’t get the job. I was quite distraught, thinking I
would never get a “real” job. I remember bawling my eyes out on the bed while
Scott consoled me. He’s a good guy.

I finally got a job in October 1976 at Area Cooperative
Educational Services (ACES) as a part-time aide. I worked with adolescents who
had severe emotional and learning deficits. In January I went to full-time. I
applied for several teaching jobs in the next few years with no success. I
believed it was because “they” thought I couldn't do the job because I was so
short. (Do you sense a theme here?) I finally earned a teaching position in
1979, becoming the first “pre-vocational” teacher in the program. I taught
basic life skills and simple job tasks. My salary was $9, 975. It seemed like a million bucks to me. (In 2014 I finally got up the nerve to ask my former boss why she passed me over for so many teaching jobs. "Was it because I was short?" She looked shocked and replied that - no - I simply hadn't been "ready.")

Scott and I took several “breaks” in our relationship. He
moved out and I moved to 205 Norton Street in New Haven. Directly across the
street were the “Moonies”, members of the Unification Church, a “cult” religion
headed by Sun Myung
Moon. I had a perfect foil for their frequent proselytizing. I just told them I was a Bahá'í. They would
take their leave before I could launch into my “spiel.”

Years before, my friend Renee and I attempted to be part of
the youth group at the local reformed temple. Not my crowd. Our friend Patty
had developed a crush on this guy who was a Bahá'í so she and I thought
we’d check it out.Loved it. The Bahá'ís basically believe
that God sends a divine messenger for each generation. Bahá’u’lláh was the
messenger for our time. Well, technically for the 19th century. The religion
has its roots in Iran. There was no church and lots of music. Also – no drugs,
no alcohol and no pre-marital sex. I
drank my fair share but it wasn't that important to me. (The drinking age was 18
then.) I really didn't want to do drugs – too scared to get in trouble. So,
this was perfect. It was the 70s after all. There was a lot of pressure to partake. “Sorry, it’s against my religion.” But then I met Scott. Hmm.
Did I mention I met him in a bar? The Sleigh House Restaurant in Hamden. So,
after we moved in together the Bahá'í thing kind of waned. I do miss it though.
I really connected with much of what the religion offered. Patty and I even visited the Bahá'í
Temple in Willmette, Illinois and went to a National Bahá'í Conference in
Oklahoma City. Saw Cher and met Seals and Crofts. Someone must have blabbed
about my living arrangements because I remember getting a letter asking me to
send back my membership card (I think that’s what it was called) if I insisted
on continuing to cohabit with Scott. I sent it back. I didn't want to get
into trouble.

At some point, Scott moved back in with me in New Haven.
After three engagements, (one he can’t remember because he was drunk and one we
both broke) we married on May 28, 1983. His father, the Reverend William
Winchester Holman married us at the Yale Divinity School Chapel. My father, by then on
his third marriage, had come down from Toronto, Ontario with his wife Valerie,
their three adopted children, Rodi, Kristen, and Marion. Fraser,Valerie’s son from her first marriage and my father’s second wife,
Debbie and their daughter (my half-sister) Alexandra didn't attend. I guess that would have been too weird? I now had 12 people I considered to be siblings. To my
father’s credit, he was completely accepting of the fact I wanted my
stepfather, “Alfie” to walk me down the aisle. Dad had his issues, but he could
be a class act.

In 1985, our first daughter, Caitlin was born. I was, to put
it mildly, a nervous mother. This auto-biography is already too long so I’ll
spare the readers the excruciating details of my incompetence as a new mother.
The important thing is, she survived. I went back to work when Caitlin was 4
months old.

Scott and I bought our first (and probably our only) home in
February, 1986. The sales price was $81,000. Almost 30 years later, the mortgage on 472 Woodin Street in Hamden is $125,000. How did that happen?

I had started working on my Master's degree in 1979. In the fall of 1986, I finally
earned my M.S. in Learning Disabilities from Southern. I had a 4.0 average.

Our second child,
Meghan, was born in 1989. There were at least 5 other children born to ACES
staff that year. The mother of one little boy was struggling
with new motherhood and the stress of our difficult jobs. Carolyn and I decided
we needed to do something, just for ourselves. We formed TBT Crafts (Two Broke
Teachers) and for the next few years, enjoyed selling personalized art cartoons
through home parties and craft shows. We even made some money!

I stayed at ACES for a total of 23 years. The majority of my
career there was spent working with high-school students who had a variety of
serious emotional, behavioral, and learning issues. These were the students who
“could not be taught” in their local schools. The “sending” school districts
would pay upwards of $20,000 - $40,000 to send a student to ACES for just one
year. While at ACES, I developed the
first yearbook, a school library, and a variety of different courses. I made
wonderful friends. Three in particular are still close to me today.

It was a great place to work, but quite draining. By 1999, our
girls were 14 and 10. Like they say, “Bigger kids – bigger problems.” Not that
the kids had big problems, but I was just so tired at the end of each work day
I couldn't fully attend to helping them with homework, getting dinner cooked
and on the table, managing their schedules and all the other daily minutia of
motherhood. I was tired. And stressed.

Then an opportunity presented itself. At a meeting for one
of my students, the director mentioned they might be looking for a teacher. She
ran a small, alternative high school program for special education students. In
Hamden. Five minutes from our house. It sounded like ACES the way it was when I
started in 1976, not the huge program it had morphed into. I took the job in
September 2000. Good call.

Working at STEPS (Secondary Teen Educational Programs and
Services) was great. It was March 2001 before I got sworn at. That had been a
daily, if not hourly, experience at ACES. How refreshing. I was so lucky to
have such a wonderful opportunity.

I was even able to spend more time on my hobby, dollhouse
miniatures. For many years, my mother and I shared the love of dollhouse
miniatures. We participated in local craft shows, selling accessories she made,
under the name D’Orette Creations, in honor of the company her parents had run
in the late 1940s. By 2000, I owned at least four dollhouses and a plethora of
furniture and accessories spanning several design eras. As I mentioned earlier,
we were NOT hoarders. I was waiting till I could retire and spend time with all
my “stuff.”

For the next several years, I worked at STEPS, enjoying
happy hours and even a cruise with my new co-workers, who had quickly become
like family. I get bored quickly which is why I think working in a small
setting fits me so well. I was able to teach in my own way, creating new
courses and activities without having to explain (or defend) my style to the
“administration.” Until that one day when the Superintendent of Schools passed
through my classroom. She was in the room no more than 6 seconds, but it was
long enough for her to view and then complain about the sign hanging over my
desk: “Sarcasm – Just one more service I offer.” I had to take it down.

In 2004 my step-father died. I had always spent a good deal
of time with my mom, but as her health began failing, my responsibilities to
her increased.

My father passed away in 2008. We had never been
particularly close but he had made a real effort in the year before he died to
make amends for some of his transgressions. I’m glad for that, as I am now
closer to my Canadian siblings.

Eventually I picked up a part-time job teaching two nights
at the Adult High School in Hamden. I figured it would serve me well later on,
perhaps as a way to make some extra money in retirement. (Like my father, I
also had a “grand plan”) I also had developed an online program at HCLC (STEPS
changed its name to Hamden Collaborative Learning Center when the program moved
and merged with REACH, a similar program for middle-school students.)

In 2010, I co-wrote and published a book with Linda Gant,
whom I met online after purchasing some pieces from her web-store. The Complete Reference Guide to Ideal’s
1964 and 1965 Petite Princess and Princess Patti Dollhouse Furniture
detailed the history and information about the first “real” dollhouse furniture
I ever owned. We quickly sold out of the 250 copies we had printed and are
planning a revised edition for release in 2015.

On December 2, 2011 my mother died. She had fought valiantly
for several years to overcome major health problems. I miss her terribly.
Writing the book about her life in Japan was very therapeutic for me. I felt
like I got to know my mother on another level. Reading her letters, I could
imagine she was still here.

The last few years have been amazing. Our daughter Caitlin
married Matthew Hardy on July 12, 2012. They had a son, Jack Winchester on May
13, 2014. Caitlin had been living in
Colorado since 2003. Jack’s arrival made the distance seem even wider.

I realized that I had accrued enough years teaching (35) to
take retirement at the end of the 2013-2014 school year. So I did. I spent the
summer of 2014 helping Caitlin adjust to motherhood and attending the
International Association of Jewish Genealogy Societies convention in Salt Lake
City, Utah. Genealogy has become another passion for me. I started my quest
just before my father passed away, attempting to prove we had Irish heritage.
No luck there yet. (Now you know why our kids are named Caitlin and Meghan).
Sharing our family history is a way for me to honor all those who have passed
on and keep them alive in my mind.

On October 11, 2014 our daughter Meghan married Andrew
Jefts. They purchased my mother's home and live 6 ½ minutes from us in the house I grew up in.

I am continuing to work part-time at Hamden Adult Ed as well
as a few hours at HCLC, facilitating the online program I began a few years
earlier. My “grand plan” has worked out extraordinarily well.